Frieda waited by the door in her subservient position, on her knees, clasping her wrists behind her back, and staring down at the polished marble floor. It was strange to think that just hours ago she had been in her school library listening to her friends talk about university. Now her whole life had changed and she was some strange middle aged woman's slave.
Her long dark hair fell in curtains over her face, leaving her no clue what was going on in the house. Frieda fidgeted, her back sore from the kneeling. She wore only denim jeans and a spaghetti strap tank top, leaving her bare ankles and feet and shoulders cold from the spacious room. She wondered what clothes she'd be required to wear in her new home and if her owner would parade her around in revealing underwear like most tickling slaves were. Frieda knew she had a toned, hot body that a lot of guys and girls stared at. She had always been lanky as a kid, skinny and gawky, but in high school that had blossomed into a tall and straight boned frame that many admired.
Mrs. Henderson returned and was glad to see her Indian slave girl still kneeling like the servant that she was. She knew how accomplished and smart Frieda was, and it gave her a rush seeing the athletic, pretty girl with her head down, on her knees. "So you know how to follow orders," she said.
"Yes ma'am," said Frieda, still staring at the floor.
Mrs. Henderson grabbed a fistful of Frieda's dark hair, causing the girl to yelp, and then dragged her onto her feet. The old woman dragged Frieda to the couch and sat down. "Sit on the table in front of me."
Frieda climbed onto the glass table gingerly, scalp still smarting. Mrs Henderson patted her lap and asked for Frieda's feet. Frieda gulped but knew this was coming so she placed her feet in the blonde woman's lap, crossing her ankles.
"Size 8 right?"
"Yes ma'am," said Frieda. "Sometimes I wear a size 8.5."
Mrs Henderson stared at the lovely mocha brown soles in her lap, crossed at the ankles, dangling. They were wonderfully shaped, long and slender with bubbly toes cascading down symmetrically. She had slim, pretty ankles, and the overall skin color contrasted nicely with her blue denim jeans. Overall, what a prize! Mrs Henderson grabbed Frieda's big toe and pulled it back, getting a better look at her foot bottoms. Her soles and heels faded to a pale tan and looked soft and clean.
"Fan your toes," she ordered.
Frieda opened her toes as wide as she could. "You're a submissive little girl aren't you," Mrs Henderson chuckled at the Indian girl's quick obedience. "You know it's your rightful place to have these lovely brown feet dominated by a stronger older woman right?" She slapped Frieda's sole hard and the teen grunted in pain and surprise, almost pulling her foot back.
"Ow!" Frieda gasped. She clutched the sides of the table as Mrs Henderson slapped her other foot, right in the middle of her sole.
"Back on my lap, slave. I'll have to punish you for moving those feet away." Mrs Henderson pulled out a white ruler and dragged it gently against Frieda's sole. Frieda shivered at the cold sensation on her sensitive soles and fear. The blonde woman smirked. " Turn around and face the wall. Place your hands behind your back and dangle your feet off the table behind you. Theres a proper slave. Say thank you for disciplining my brown soles, after each strike."
Frieda didnt see the slap but heard the ruler whistle. Then a sharp pain blossomed on her right foot and she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut. "T-thank you for disciplining my brown feet," she said.
Slap. The other foot. Frieda's foot jumped, curling her toes, but then submissively lowered it and opened her foot again. "Thank you for disciplining my brown feet."
Slap. Henderson aimed it at her toes. The pain made Frieda nearly fall off the table. "Th-thank you for disciplining my brown feet," she gasped out.
Frieda's hot body was in such a taut, tense position that Mrs Henderson cruelly decided to surprise her by stroking her nails along Frieda's bare ankles. Frieda giggled in surprise, twisting. "Keep your hands behind your head, slave!" The older woman ordered. She moved her long nails to Frieda's calves, eliciting more giggles, and then squirreled her fingers inside Frieda's tank top. Frieda bucked, shocked at the sudden intrusion on her bare torso. "I need to get a nice feel of this hot Indian body that I now own," Mrs Henderson explained, lightly drifting her fingers up Frieda's toned hot stomach. She slapped Frieda's ass. "Straighten your back, slave."
After that Mrs Henderson alternated between bastinado and light tickles on poor Frieda. She made Frieda beg to get tickled on her ankles when the bastinado was too hard and to be spanked when the tickling was too much. Frieda was a gasping, mewling mess of twitchy anticipation because she could not see her tormentor, only feel the cool breeze on her bare dangling feet.
Afterwards, Mrs Henderson placed the white ruler between Frieda's teeth and told her to keep it there. Like usual, Frieda got off the table and on her knees before the intimidating blonde woman. She found herself facing Mrs Henderson's own slipper-clad feet.
"From now on," said Mrs Henderson, petting Frieda's head. "You will only be barefoot inside my house. When you walk, you must present the full sole of your foot to whoever's behind you by lifting it all the way up. If there are more than two people in a room with you, you must get on your knees and crawl with your soles fully visible and your head down. You are not to hide your submissive brown feet anywhere in my house understood? Good. Now, you might have noticed, but I have a thing for ethnic girls, especially Indians. I know that isn't right but that's just how I feel." Her hand grabbed Frieda's chin and lifted it up, so she could see her prize in full. "When you speak, you will do so with a slight accent. And when you beg, I want to hear you beg in punjabi, understood?"
Frieda blinked, too shocked to respond. Finding her words, she stammered: "This is ridiculous with all due respect ma'am. I - I never agreed to the last part."
"How about this: you agree to do what I say and I'll halve your sentence and give you a 20k bonus. Deal?" The deal was admittedly too good to reject. "Fine," said Frieda.
Mrs Henderson then had Frieda strip and inspected the rest of her body. She had her bend over and stretch, lie flat on her stomach like a starfish, do the splits, masturbate, and other humiliating tasks. She then made Frieda put on a sheer white set of lingerie over her naked body because the white silk contrasted so nicely with her brown skin. The only exception was her thong which was a bright star spangled banner design. Lastly, she fitted a collar and leash around Freida's neck.
Mrs Henderson then tied Frieda spread eagle on her bed. "What are you?" She asked, grabbing her leash and pulling hard. "Your tickle slave," Frieda responded in a humiliatingly exaggerated Indian accent. Mrs Henderson drove her nails deep into Frieda's armpits making the poor Indian girl scream. The blonde woman continued down Frieda's hot, tanned body, playing with her ribs and stomach mercilessly while Frieda kicked and screamed and begged in her native language. The dominating blonde raked her nails up and down Frieda's flanks until they were sweaty and red with marks. Frieda was in horror with how badly ticklish she was. Then Mrs Henderson moved down to her knees and legs, tickling them while also slapping Frieda's sweet spot between her legs. She massaged Frieda's clit while listening to the Indian's mewling submissive begging and finally raked her fingers all the way down Frieda's naked brown feet. Frieda howled in protest, kicking and fightng with renewed vigor.
When they were done, Mrs Henderson had her new slave on her knees, massaging and kissing her pale, spotted feet. She enjoyed the smooching sounds of Frieda's lips as they kissed the tops of her feet. All in all, it was a successful day.
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